


Jamke's Dilemma

by jesuisaubergine



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Barely counts as romance if I'm honest, Chapter 1 Setting, F/M, Fluff, Jamke's POV, Short One Shot, but I like this ship, just an fyi, so suck it, some violence near the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 22:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16983147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesuisaubergine/pseuds/jesuisaubergine
Summary: When going to confront his brother of his recent aggression, Jamke finds his brother has stolen more than Jungby territory. If he’s not careful, Jamke will find something else will soon be stolen





	Jamke's Dilemma

Jamke looked out at the vast lake to the north. The air was still and there not a single ripple in the water. For such a massive body of water, nothing disturbed its presence. The common folk speak of a lady who guards the lake, but Jamke didn’t believe in such fairy tale.

His eyes weren’t focused on the water. Instead, he looked to the coast far to the east. He saw his brother’s army moving a few days ago but has since lost sight of his forces. Based on the direction and speed, he suspected Gandolf was returning home after his “mission.”

That brother of his would soon run himself on the end of a spear with his foolhardy stubbornness.

When word reached Jamke and his father in the capital of Gandolf’s attack on Grannvale soil, it took everything in Jamke to not race towards the border himself. Instead, he waited for his brother’s return and would demand an answer. He could see the conflict in his father. Not even the honeyed words of that dark priest the king kept by his side could allow him to forego his morals.

Or at least, Jamke hoped so.

These thoughts hung over Jamke, eyes flicking to his peripheral as a guard approached him. He turned to face the kneeling soldier. “Prince Jamke! Scouts have spotted Prince Gandolf’s forces exiting the forest. He should be arriving shortly.”

Jamke gave a curt nod, moving to walk past the soldier. “I understand. I shall go meet him. Have the troops stand ready at the gate. We don’t know if this is a victory lap or a retreat from his brazen attack.”

“Yes, sir. What shall we do with the thief?” The soldier followed close by, a nervous tic to his voice.

Jamke frowned. He had forgotten about the thief that had managed to make his way into the castle treasury and helped himself to hoarded resources. He had meant to talk to his brother about this, but Jamke found an impending war with their neighbors to be of greater concern. “Where is he currently?”

“Right now, he’s being held in the main hall.”

Jamke stepped inside the tower, following the hallway down. The main entry was clear, the calm before the storm. Outside of a handful of guards and a boy who couldn’t be older than thirteen, cuffed and surrounded. The thief gave a petulant glare, eyes darting about in a last-ditch attempt for an escape.

“Prince Jamke, we’ve apprehended the thief. Shall we slit his throat and be done with it?” One of the guards asked, a tight grip on the thin arm.

Before Jamke could offer mercy, the thief gave a whine. “Wait! No! Don’t kill me! I didn’t do nothing wrong!”

Jamke snorted as he gave a once over the young thief. For all his innocence, their little intruder was smart and cunning enough to have slipped past the guards and helped himself several weapons before getting caught. Jamke wasn’t even sure if they had yet retrieved everything back. From the looks of it, their thief had made this journey before and Jamke had no way of telling the state of resources prior to his brother’s departure.

“Hold your sword. He will face a fair trial. Until then, our thief will find a new home in the prisons below,” Jamke decided. It was a more merciful sentence than the boy could hope for. Gandolf certainly wouldn’t have kept him alive.

Before the thief could protest any further, the guards shuffled him away, leaving Jamke standing in the main hall. The guards raced about, moving to their post as they anticipated the return of Prince Gandolf. The dark gray stone dimmed the room, the dark, green drapery equally as dark.

Everything in this place reminded Jamke of the forests of his country, and yet he found no comfort in these halls. Not when his brother had risked the anger and might of the Grannvalian empire.

The minutes inched by, Jamke still uneasiness when the first trumpets heralded the return of Gandolf. He could tell by the crowds that Gandolf had made a show while walking through town, reveling in the celebration of his return. No doubt he intended on making Jamke wait on him.

The gates swung open, Jamke’s men ready and alert. Though they stood at attention, the fanfare put them at ease. It seemed Gandolf’s initial strike had been successful. Only time would tell whether this attack would be wise.

Jamke already knew the folly of it all.

His eyes narrowed, muscles tensing as his elder brother came into sight. Gandolf always stood a few inches taller, broad and thick with muscles. His lips twitched for a moment when Gandolf spotted his half-brother, but he quickly hid his annoyance. His smile twisted wide, a barking laugh greeting the entourage before.

“Hail the conquering heroes! Prince Jamke, Verdane has made its first attack against those Grannvalian dogs. Before us lies the feast – come and take of the spoils of war,” Gandolf decreed, passing his guards.

Jamke’s expression remained frozen, lifting a hand to place his men at ease. Even after the castle gates closed, Jamke could hear the dogs of war closing in. “I’ll take nothing of the spoils. Do you realize what danger you have brought upon our lands? What will stop the Grannvale empire from slaughtering us like they did to the Isaachians?”

Gandolf waved his men away. Only a few remained close, though Jamke was blind to them. He locked eyes with his elder brother, demanding an answer.

“Grannvale is a dying kingdom. They spread themselves thin and make enemies of everyone. They have always looked at us like savages. It’s about time they started to respect us!” Gandolf snarled.

Jamke shook his head, his temper flaring. “And you have proven their point! You broke with our alliance and now the fault and suffering lie with our own people!”

“When did you become Grannvale’s bitch, eh, Jamke?” Gandolf chuckled, shaking his head.

Jamke refused to be insulted. “I don’t care what Grannvale does. What they do is their own business. I have no love of the warmongering greed of their lords. But to risk our kingdom for a penance of land is foolish. Even you must know this Gandol-“

Jamke could tell his words fell on deaf ears even before he finished speaking. Gandolf gave a barking laugh, clearly believing his adventure to have been worth the risk.

“Those little lords parade their ancestors as if it makes them gods among men. I’ll tear their regal asses off their throne and take it for my own. But who’s not to say holy blood doesn’t have its uses?” Gandolf jeered, turning back towards his men.

Jamke sighed heavily. He had heard Gandolf grumble and berate the holy blood of the other kingdoms. For someone who claims it matters not, it clearly consumed him if it drove him even now. Jamke took pride in his family and the kingdom they have made for themselves.

Apparently, the greed of his brothers could not be sated.

Before Jamke could make further reprimands, a strange sight caught his eyes. His words caught at the young woman previously hidden from sight. Her hair shone bright gold in the late afternoon sun, the hems of her white dress dirtied from days of travel. Even so, Jamke felt struck to the spot, taken back by the beautiful young woman. Not even the thorns and bristles of this land could tarnish her beauty.

Her blue eyes caught his brown eyes before darting towards the ground, her grip on the dark blue shawl tightening. Jamke blinked, at a loss for words, tearing his gaze away. Of all things to return at his brother’s side, this graceful angel was the last thing he had expected. He knew by the guards standing by her side and the ropes chaffing her wrists that she did not come willingly with Gandolf. The tremor in her frame betrayed her anger and fear.

Their brief exchange did not go unnoticed. Gandolf turned back, walking towards the young woman. She stepped back, trying to keep some distance, but the guards held her in place.

Gandolf chuckled, raising a hand to brush against her cheek, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Beautiful, isn’t she? With Lord Ring of Jungby away on the warfront, he left his daughter to defend the castle in his stead. She’s a mild one, but her retainer did have a bit of a bite to him. Nothing my axe couldn’t handle… isn’t that right, milady?”

Jamke noticed the flinch in her body, a flash of pain glinting in her eyes. She jerked her head away, letting her hair curtain her expression. She remained silent, wise enough to not try angering her captor.

Gandolf sighed mockingly, though his voice dipped into a lower growl. Jamke’s elder brother wasn’t renowned for his patience. “Come on, missy. That’s no way for my future wife to act. Why don’t you give me a smile?”

Jamke blinked, suddenly realizing the intention of his brother. He had figured Gandolf had taken her as a hostage of war. This was far worse than he could have anticipated. The young woman must have had some idea of this arrangement beforehand, giving no reaction. She remained still, head turned away.

Her quiet resistance was enough to flare up Gandolf’s short temper. He growled, a hand snatching a handful of blonde hair before Jamke could intervene.

“Answer me when I speak!” Gandolf growled, yanking her by her hair. The young lady let out a muffled cry of pain, shaking hands rising to try and tear away from the grip. Her eyes squeezed shut as even now she tried to pull away from her captor.

The sight was enough to pull Jamke into action. Darting quickly, Jamke twisted his brother’s hand away off of the young woman, just enough to release his grip while not instigating any further fights. Wedging himself between his brother and the captive, Jamke decided his brother would be less inclined to strike out if it meant facing potential retaliation. Gandolf tore his wrist away, the simmering look of anger burning into Jamke, though abstaining from any further aggressive actions.

Even Gandolf knew better than to openly assault a prince of Verdane, regardless of his status.

“Gandolf, last I checked, we have bigger issues to consider. We need to secure the castle for any further incursions your actions have caused. Father will want to hear of what you have done,” Jamke stated plainly, letting the words be his only judgment for the time being.

If Gandolf had any grievances, he held his tongue on it. In a rare show of restraint, his hackles lowered, Gandolf giving a small smirk. A low chuckle revealed the confidence he felt in his mission. “I’ll let our old man know what’s happened. As for the border, Gerrard stands guard as we speak. Don’t worry – Kinbaith will be following closely. Apparently, he’s got some tricks up his sleeves in case that line of defense falls. Perhaps you and your archers can back him up, little brother?”

Jamke narrowed his eyes at the dripping condescension in Gandolf’s voice. The light, teasing nature of his words mocked Jamke, treating him like an infant. Jamke lowered his hand, deciding not to push it. Their father would judge their actions… and hopefully, their father would serve justice.

But even now, Jamke wasn’t sure.

“I’ll do my part to serve my country. If that’s what father wishes, then I will do it,” Jamke stated the words as a fact, but even he couldn’t hide the crawling worry in his stomach. What if his father encouraged the conflict? His judgment has been so passive and weak these past few weeks. The king had lent his ear to his youngest son, but Jamke worried that his words would fall deaf on his father just as they had on his brothers.

Gandolf grunted, unimpressed by the answer. “At least you aren’t completely spineless. I’m done with these talks of war and Grannvale – let’s celebrate our victory. The first of many for our lands. Would my lady care to offer me a drink from her chalice?”

A sudden flash of anger flared up in Jamke again, confused by the sudden impulse but acting on it nonetheless. “Brother, watch your tongue.”

Gandolf’s smile dropped, a dangerous note creeping back into his voice. “Or else what?”

Jamke didn’t have a response, unable to back his fight. Still, he held his position, unwilling to let the young woman be harassed any further by Gandolf. She remained silent behind him, still and unmoving at the events before her. Jamke had his back turn so he had no idea her reaction. He wished he could offer more than this intervention, but Gandolf’s actions had consequences far beyond Jamke’s control.

Even now, the Grannvalian army likely marched towards Verdane. The daughter of the duke would certainly catch the eye of the kingdom. Soon, they would all pay the price for Gandolf’s brutality.

After a few long seconds, Gandolf grumbled, stepping away. Losing interest in their argument, he brushed past Jamke, clipping him on the shoulder as he made his way towards the grand hall. Jamke glared at the back of his head, listening to his brother make orders of food and drink to celebrate this small victory.

Only after Gandolf left did Jamke finally let out a heavy sigh. He raised a hand to brush his bangs out of his face, the muscles in his body going slack with loss tension. Things were much worse than he thought. He would need to send an envoy to his father before Gandolf set off tomorrow for the capital. Perhaps he could dissuade any further conflict and urge the king to seek a diplomatic solution to their problem.

A soft cough reminded Jamke of Gandolf’s “spoils of war.”

Almost hesitantly, Jamke turned to face the young woman. She glanced up tentatively, eyes glancing up through the golden bangs framing her face. “… Thank you, sir. For stepping in when you did.”

Jamke gave a wry smile, glancing away from the gentle blue eyes. Even if he meant well, he knew that his actions were only enough to gloss over the situation for now. “It was the least I could do. I’m sorry my brother has done this to you and that I can do so little help right now. I pray that our father will set his course straight. Gandolf needs to be reminded that such behavior is not befitting of a prince.”

Her shoulders slumped slightly, a slow exhale as she started to let down her guard. “I see. So you’re a prince of Verdane as well?”

Jamke gave a nod, courtesy and respect leading him through the familiar motion. “Yes. I am Prince Jamke. And you are?”

She gave a brief curtsey. “Lady Aideen.”

Jamke considered a gentleman’s greeting towards the lady, his hand reaching to take hers, but thought better of it. Last thing she needed was uninvited contact after what was most likely a rough journey with his brother. “An honor, milady. Sorry that these are the circumstances under which we meet.”

Aideen gave a weak smile, the corners of her lips barely curling upward. Her eyes flicked to the guards that stood near, ready to escort her to her cell. “Believe me, meeting you has been a sweet respite from these past few days.”

Jamke tried to smile back, but he couldn’t. There was a heavy sense of resignation in her voice, an acceptance that her situation was dire and that little could be done. Jamke wanted to promise her an escape from her situation, but didn’t know what he could offer. He could do little to actively oppose their actions.

With no comfort to offer, Jamke fell back on formality, unwilling to part from Aideen’s company but finding no reason to keep her from resting. “I suppose you’ll want some solitude away from all the chaos. I’ll have some guards bring down dinner for you so you don’t…” Jamke didn’t know how to complete the sentence. So she wouldn’t have to eat with the same Verdanite barbarians who kidnapped her? That seemed most aptly put, but cruel all the same.

She gave a small nod. “That would be appreciated. I am quite exhausted.”

Jamke gestured to one of the guards, sending him to the kitchen to relay the orders as the other guard moved to guide her away. The ropes caught Jamke’s eye before she left, hand reaching out to grab the bindings.

“Here, let me take those off. I can’t imagine how long you’ve had to wear those,” Jamke muttered, knowing that his brother would not have considered his prisoner’s comfort when he tied her wrists up. He tugged the knot free, a thumb brushing against the rash across her wrists. It didn’t seem the skin was broken, though he imagined the chafing would leave her sore for a while.

Jamke looked up, noticing the wide-eyed stare Aideen gave him. She stood frozen in her spot, eyes darting back and forth between his face and hands. Jamke realized he still held her hands with his own, letting go as if burned. He couldn’t meet her gaze, his face heating up unexpectedly. Was she angry at the brazen touch? Terrified? Confused?

He could feel the blue eyes burning into him. It wasn’t enough that he showed respect. He wanted her to feel at ease and comfortable with his presence. If his brother was as harsh and callous as usual, then the least Jamke could do was offer Aideen some peace away from that. It would probably do little to change her opinion of Verdane and her people, but perhaps it would ease some of the sufferings she had already carried.

“Right. Dinner. I’ll get that taken care,” Jamke sputtered, stepping back while still avoiding Aideen’s following eyes. He turned away, still feeling her gaze on his back as he rushed out of the room, baffled by the heat that followed him and the racing of his heart. He let out a heavy sight after he left the room and Lady Aideen was out of sight.

* * *

Jamke found himself trailing the castle walls, not eager to resume his post. The townsfolk bustled near the gate, trying to gain entry to enter the market. A pair of kids raced by, teasing one of stray dogs with a piece of pork they had snatched from one of the stands. The sky was a stunning blue, the late spring air setting everyone at ease.

The normal bustle of commerce did little to ease Jamke’s anxiety.

His envoy had reached their father a few days ago, with Gandolf finally reaching the castle today. There was little Jamke could do to sway his father right now, his position requiring him to stand guard in his brother’s absence. But that wasn’t what worried him.

Kinbaith came by a few days prior to discuss preparations for war. And given how intricately detailed these plans were, Jamke suspected that this was something thought of long before Gandolf’s brash actions. In fact, the soldiers readied, and defenses prepared seemed built for a possible retaliatory action.

Such planning would have been outside of Kinbaith’s realm. He would have needed the cooperation of not just their other brother, but additional resources from the capital to ready these defenses. But… that would imply their father had known about Gandolf’s planned invasion of Grannvale territory.

If that was the case, then Jamke’s message would be meaningless. That meant his father knew about an impending war on their country and encouraged it.

Jamke leaned against the cool stone, shadowed from the sun. The city went about their business, oblivious of the impending Grannvalian retaliation. Kinbaith warned him that Lord Sigurd of House Chalphy had already breached the border and seized Evans. Grannvale soldiers were already on Verdane soil. No doubt they would seek vengeance for the brazen attack on their country.

And also reclaim the daughter of Lord Ring. A mission of both conquest and rescue.

And while Jamke was willing to defend his country from intruders, he admitted that he wished to return Lady Aideen home as quickly as possible. She had no reason to be caught in the middle of this war. Gandolf took her as his prize with no consideration for her own well-being. To say that the behavior was savage would be an understatement.

But more than that, Jamke didn’t want to see Lady Aideen upset.

He snorted, shaking his head. He sounded like a love-sick fool, smitten by such a beautiful maiden. But it was more than his attraction to Aideen. Fate had been cruel to her and Jamke’s family was responsibility for such treatment. He felt responsible, obligated even, to try and amend these wrongs.

But with an army at the footsteps of his country, Jamke knew diplomacy was far outside of his reach. So the question remained on how to keep Aideen safe from the encroaching danger. The war would soon reach Marpha and there’s no guarantee that Gandolf wouldn’t use Aideen as a hostage to try and force the enemy to surrender.

That was a risk Jamke couldn’t take.

Jamke sighed, glancing off towards the gates. He was well-known by the people and the guards that few questions would be directed his direction while he passed. Still, it caught Jamke off-guard when he noticed a young woman standing not too far off. Her hands were folded together, frame held in tight, uneasy about approaching the stranger.

Jamke cocked his head, unsure what to make of the maiden with the lavender hair. “May I help you?”

The young woman bowed, curled locks brushing past her shoulders. “Pardon the intrusion, I just… I was wondering- I saw a young woman go into the castle a week ago and haven’t seen her since. I wanted to check and see if she’s okay. She seemed terribly uneasy when returning with the prince’s company.”

Jamke raised an eyebrow, curious about the stranger now. “You’re talking about Lady Aideen? She’s well. She’s under watch by order of Prince Gandolf.” Jamke decided to not mention that she was kept in a cell by order of the man who wanted to wed her.

The lavender-haired maiden nod, sighing softly. “I see. I suppose seeing her is not an option, though?”

Jamke grimaced. “Not until Prince Gandolf returns, I’m afraid. His orders were clear.” And Jamke didn’t want to risk a militaristic coup by starting a conflict between him and his brother now. Not with an invading army on their lands.

The young maiden’s shoulders sagged, her disappointment revealed. “I understand.”

Jamke couldn’t help but be a little curious about this stranger who seemed to know the noblewoman. “Are you familiar with Lady Aideen?”

The young woman shook her head. “Not really. The army made a show returning a week ago. I just happened to be in town and ran into Lady Aideen during the festivities. She seemed rather down despite the general revelry, but she seemed hopeful Lord Sigurd would come rescue her.”

Jamke narrowed his eyes. If he recalled, his brother mentioned that it was Lord Sigurd who was leading the invasion into Verdane. Perhaps Aideen was close to Sigurd. That could be helpful… or problematic depending on how events pan out. “I see. Well, perhaps Lord Sigurd will. We’ll have to see… What was your name?”

The young woman bowed again, a bit nervous. “I am Deirdre, milord.”

“A pleasure, Lady Deirdre. I’m-“

She shook her head. “I know who you are, Prince Jamke… I appreciate you taking the time and humoring me with my questions.”

Jamke gave a brief nod, his hands falling to rest by his side. “It’s no trouble… When my brother gets back to Marpha, I’ll ask about giving Lady Aideen a bit more freedom to explore the town. I’m sure she would enjoy the company.”

Deirdre smiled, raising a hand to brush away a lock of hair that had fallen forward. “I’m sure she would. I should be getting back home now… By your leave, milord.”

Deirdre gave another quick bow, blush across her face before turning heel. The crowd shifted around her, unable to blend in. Even from afar, Jamke could see her lavender hair floating through the townsfolks.

He raised a hand to rub at his chin. Even though Jamke had his questions, he had abstained from asking them. But in light of this most recent conversation, perhaps a visit was in order. He didn’t want to accost Aideen, but perhaps she would be willing to talk. There was only way to find out.

* * *

Jamke had visited the dungeons a few times to check on their prisoners. The irony that Gandolf kept his future wife in a cell was not lost on anyone. There was no pretense of courtship or civility. Aideen was the trophy and she was a captured bird in a cage.

Jamke wanted to open that cage more than anything else.

Their conversations remained quiet and short, just a brief word to check on Aideen’s well-being. Aside from the guard standing at the end of the hall, the prisons remained mostly empty. The key word being mostly, as a certain thief was still being held. In the commotion and stir of the war, the blond-haired thief remained in bars for the time being.

Of course, the thief had his thoughts on this matter. As Jamke passed his cell, the thief poked through. “Come on, mister prince, can you let me out of here? I’ve been good! I haven’t done anything wrong!”

Jamke rolled his eyes, biting back an exasperated sigh. “Until we account for the 2000 gold missing from our inventory, you’ll be held until that gold is brought forth, thief.”

“I have a name, you know.” His hands gripped the bar, leaning back with a large smile. “My name’s Dew.”

“Well, Dew, happy to have gotten your name. You’re still going nowhere until we either find the gold or you confess to your crimes,” Jamke remarked without missing a beat.

Dew sighed heavily, wandering away from the bars to flop back down on his cot. “Why do you have to be so mean, Jamke?”

Jamke decided to let the lack of formality slide based on other previous conversation. Better for Dew to get out these sorts of comments with him now than slipping up around Gandolf. His elder brother’s temper could be fierce and he was not known to tolerate fools of any kind.

“You’ll survive,” Jamke told him, moving past his cell towards Aideen. Even as he drew closer, he could hear the amused chuckles from a cell on the other corner of the hall. A smile grew across his face, watching Aideen rising to greet him by the entrance of her cell.

“No need to be so harsh, Prince Jamke. He’s just a child, after all,” Aideen teased, a small smile teasing at the corners of her lips.

The fact that Aideen could smile even in a place like this baffled Jamke. Every time Jamke came to visit her, she smiled, not yet broken by the events transpiring. She still bore the weight, unable to hide the graying circles under her eyes from sleepless nights of worry. But even so, Aideen bit back a laugh, amused by Jamke’s frustration.

Jamke felt his bandana slipping out of place, a hand wandering to affix the cloth back in place. “Well, he’s a child who tried to rob the castle blind. So you’ll have to forgive my temper.”

Aideen raised an eyebrow. “Sticky fingers, that one?”

Jamke sighed, shaking his head. “Indeed. Things have been so chaotic that I haven’t had an opportunity consider what sort of action should be held against him… Gandolf has been away so I haven’t told him of Dew’s crimes. Though truth be told, I might withhold that. Gandolf’s not known for his mercy and compassion.”

The hints of a smile quickly disappeared from Aideen’s face. Her expression darkened, shoulders hunching slightly. “I agree. That’s kind of you not to say anything, then.”

Jamke didn’t know how to take the compliment. It didn’t feel kind – it felt necessary. Maybe Gandolf wouldn’t have an issue taking the boy’s hand, but Jamke felt differently. Because despite his crimes, Aideen was right in calling him a child. A punishment not fitting of the crime wasn’t justice at all.

Unfortunately, Jamke’s morals and ideals were not shared across his family. Maybe at one time they were, but nowadays…

Jamke remembered the original reason he came to visit Aideen (besides enjoying her company). He rested a hand on his hip, eyes watching her face carefully. “I received word from my eldest brother – the Grannvalian army has crossed the Verdane border. Lord Sigurd is leading the charge.”

Aideen’s eyes widened, her breath catching. The hand gripping her shawl tightened while her other hand reached to grip one of the bars. For a moment, she looked as if she would puke, but instead settled for several long, measured breaths. The words finally seemed settle on her, her expression downtrodden. “I see. So we’re officially at war.”

Her words seemed to drive the rift between the two of them deeper, separating them further than iron bars could. Jamke looked away to stare at the stone floor. “Yes… at least you might have vengeance on your captors in this way. Against the Verdanite barbarians,” Jamke offered wryly. He knew of the slur Grannvalians used against both Isaachians and Verdanites.

Given recent events, perhaps such claims were not so far off.

Aideen snapped her head up, eyes fierce and bright. “I want no part in the cycle of violence. This war is senseless and needs to be stopped. Perhaps you can parlay with Lord Sigurd!”

Jamke blinked, turning again to face Aideen. He hadn’t expected such fierce conviction and certainly not towards the side of resolution. But then again, Aideen was a cleric so perhaps it shouldn’t have been surprising.

“This Lord Sigurd – are you close to him?” Jamke asked, trepidatious of her response.

She gave a firm nod. “Yes, he’s an old friend. Our principalities are close so we would often visit each other … He’s a kind and honorable man. I know he would listen and would want to find a resolution as much as myself. Please speak to him, Prince Jamke.”

Jamke wanted to believe her words, that this disastrous war could be ended so simply and elegantly. As much as he wanted to disregard his father’s orders to protect the borders and instead race out and parlay with the enemy lord, Jamke couldn’t betray his family. He was a prince and he had a duty to both his king and his people.

But if there was a way to end this war with as little bloodshed as possible…

“Let me speak to my father. I don’t want this war to linger any longer than need be. Perhaps I can sway him into seeking a peaceful resolution as you asked,” Jamke offered, already knowing it was too little.

Still, the relief and gratitude in Aideen’s face warmed him. “That’s all I ask… Thank you for doing so much for me.”

Jamke shook his head, unable to accept such praise. “Hardly. I should be apologizing to you. It’s my brother’s fault you’re in this mess. It’s my family’s fault that a war now plagues my country with you caught in the middle… If anything, you should loathe all of us for this injustice.”

Aideen’s brows furrowed, stepping closer to meet Jamke’s wavering gaze. “I don’t loathe you. You’re caught in a difficult position. You want the same things as myself, but are caught on the side that instigated this conflict. You’re loyal and wish to seek amends. It wasn’t you who committed these crimes, but the responsibility has fallen to you to make amends where others do not.”

Jamke snorted, a bitter smile on his face. “Wishing to do good in this world should not be rewarded when not followed through. I don’t know what more I can do, but I already know it’s not enough.”

“Jamke.”

The name without his title caught Jamke off-guard. He looked up, noticing the startled look on Aideen’s face as she seemed to realize her own lack of formality. She took in a quick breath, eyes darting away. “Your brother… he was not kind to me. He was harsh and cruel and wasn’t afraid to use force when he saw fit. The journey back to Marpha left me terrified and I felt as if the gods had abandoned me.”

Aideen kept her gaze down, unable to meet Jamke’s wide eyes. “But then you stepped in, protecting me where no else could. Nobody would dare stop a prince, but your title gave you that power to shield from him. Even now, I know it’s your presence that keeps me safe here. That you risk falling out of favor with your own family for my sake is not lost on me. You owe me nothing and you still stand for me-“

Jamke shrugged, the weight of everything settling on him as well. He raised a hand to hold one of the iron bars, cool against his warm, clammy hand. “It was the right thing to do. I didn’t have a choice.”

Jamke noticed the smile creeping back onto her face, gaze still down. “And that’s why I trust you, Prince Jamke. Because I know your heart and resolve are in the right place. And I will do my part to help end this war peacefully if I can.”

Jamke sighed heavily, resting his forehead against the bars. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Then perhaps I’m not as alone in this endeavor as I thought… Thank you.”

Aideen turned her head upward to reply but choked on her words before she could speak. In that moment, Jamke realized how close they were, their faces inches apart. His dark brown eyes searching her blue eyes, frozen in the spot. He knew he should tear away and not force his company on her. But instead, she seemed to lean in, no terror or fear on her face. Her expression was curious, thoughtful, yet hesitant. As if she didn’t know what this was, if it was anything at all, but intrigued all the same.

Jamke pulled his head back slightly, his heart leaping up into his throat. Before he could move away, he felt finger tips brush against his knuckles. His eyes tore away to watch Aideen brush her hand against his on the prison bar. Jamke could see the fading red marks from the ropes binding her before, near invisible to the eyes. In a strange way, her touch seemed to burn along his skin.

But he kept his hand there, curious and fascinated by it all. These last few days, Jamke felt overwhelmed by all that had transpired. From placating his brother to pleading with his father to preparing for war – Jamke felt the weight of the world crushing him. He bore the weight of his country and only he seemed to recognize the folly of it all. Reason was lost and Jamke was left to crash among the waves.

But Aideen’s gaze and gentle touch… it made him feel less alone. He had expected the thing to ground him, to give him purchase to face the impending conflict would come bearing arms and strength. But strength didn’t always come from the hefty swing of an axe or the piercing strike of arrow finding purchase. Sometimes, the power of healing and hope offered more than any blade of war could.

Jamke wasn’t one to believe in such lofty ideals. But when he met Aideen’s gaze, he felt that it could be enough.

Jamke dropped his hand to his side, unwilling to part, but needing to act all the same. He tried not to show his disappointment at leaving Aideen’s side when he wanted nothing more than to stay with her and have her by his side. But life was more complicated than that. They still had their work before them.

“I’ll go speak to my father about negotiating a peace. I’ll be back soon, Lady Aideen. I promise.” Jamke didn’t know why he made that promise, but he held to that conviction. He felt more certain when Aideen gave him a slow nod back, eyes earnestly watch him.

“Please do. We will find peace. I believe there’s still a way.”

Jamke swallowed hard, unwilling to let Aideen down. He swallowed his words, slowly leaving Aideen to face the tasks ahead of him. For all their faith, he could only pray that there was still a way to peace.

* * *

Jamke sat at the edge of his seat, finger rapping against the wooden desk. The candle light flickered, the wax pooling as the hour grew late into the night. He knew Gandolf would be asleep a few doors down, eager for the prospect of the day to come.

Jamke’s message had fallen onto deaf ears. And worse, the orders from his father not only approved of Gandolf’s aggressive attack on Grannvalian soldier, he ordered their troops to drive Sigurd’s forces out of the country. He declared the fault lied with Grannvale for invading their lands, blind to who instigated the conflict to begin with. This all but guaranteed the war to ravage their country.

Jamke couldn’t see the logic behind it. He didn’t know why his father ordered him and his brothers to strike against Lord Sigurd and his army. A few days prior, Jamke received word from Kinbaith that a messenger from Sigurd’s army had reached Genoa, en route to try and reach an armistice with Verdane and resolve the conflict.

Jamke had urged his brother to send the messenger on to Marpha so that Jamke could be negotiations. Kinbaith informed him that the messenger now hung by the noose outside the city walls.

“This was the only resolution Sigurd would find from the Verdanites.”

Kinbaith had declared this as if declaring freedom from their oppressor. Whatever qualms Jamke had with the neighborly kingdom mattered little. His brothers thirsted for blood and now they would get it.

Jamke reread his father’s edict again and again, looking for some sign of what changed. His father, the diplomatic and compassionate leader that had brought Verdane into a new age of prosperity and peace, now seemed bent on destruction. The very cycle that King Batur had broken would now restart by his own hand.

This was not like Jamke’s father. Something was wrong. Something had changed.

But what could Jamke say? What could he do?

He knew he needed to speak to his father and reason with him. He didn’t believe his father was so far gone as to lose all sense. But another messenger wouldn’t work. Jamke needed to speak to him in person. Although he was willing to follow his father’s orders, Jamke knew his father. He couldn’t give up now.

But Jamke couldn’t leave Marpha now. Not when Aideen remained a hostage. If he left, there was no telling what Gandolf would do. His mind had been preoccupied with war preparations and Jamke had been careful to steer his brother’s attentions away from the noble woman. But with Sigurd’s forces approaching, Jamke didn’t know if Gandolf intended on wedding Aideen or kill her to send a message.

Both were equally likely, and neither was acceptable. Jamke couldn’t leave Aideen in the prison. That left one option left. A very risk choice but the only thing he could think of.

Jamke turned towards the door, hearing the slow pace of the soldiers at night. He would need to wait a few more hours, when the night was at its darkest. When the change of guards came at that hour, there would be an opening where Jamke could make his move. Perhaps it was treasonous, but Jamke couldn’t bend his morals any further. He needed to right the wrongs committed. In truth, he should have done this sooner.

Jamke sighed, standing up. Pushing his seat back, he walked to the fireplace. Leaning against the mantle sat his bow, a carefully crafted instrument to his liking. He had spent many years training on the weapon, comfortable and at ease with the weapon.

He didn’t know what the journey ahead would hold, but he would need to keep his weapon close. To protect what he loved, Jamke took his bow and left his bedroom.

* * *

Jamke pulled the hood of his cloak down, masking his face from the passing city folks. Few ever paid attention, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the two other hooded figures at his side, keeping close to his steps. The sunlight barely filtered over the forests just beyond the city gates.

Daylight would soon reveal the missing prisoners and Jamke needed to make sure Aideen and Dew had enough time to escape any patrols sent after them.

Jamke waited until a passing caravan was stopped by one of the guards, inspecting the incoming goods. Reaching a hand back, he grabbed Aideen’s hand, who reached for his quickly. “Quick, let’s move.”

The two followed silently, Jamke somewhat surprised that Dew kept his mouth shut. Perhaps the thief realized the dangers involved. Jamke was certain Dew was still hiding his gold somewhere and he supposed if the thief had gotten this far in life, then he knew well enough when to play smart.

With the guards preoccupied with their search of the carts, Jamke deftly led his companions right out the gates. No one paid attention to the bedraggled trio, but Jamke didn’t say anything until the gates were far behind. Once the open road laid before them, he tore his hood down, pace quickening.

Dew noticed this immediately, racing forward. He swallowed the smile at promised freedom before turning to Aideen in urgency.

“Come on, Aideen! We need to run! Those guards are going to figure out that we pulled a fast one on them!” Dew tugged at her arm, helping her run forward.

Aideen panted lightly, trying to keep pace with her two companions. “I know. We haven’t a moment to waste.”

Jamke waited for the two to catch up, eyes watching the city behind them. No alarm had been sounded, but they shouldn’t waste the opportunity before them. But more than that, Aideen and Dew needed to try and shake the hounds while they could.

Unfortunately, Jamke couldn’t stay with them.

He turned back to Aideen, placing a hand to her back as he urged both of them on. He met her alarmed gaze, face flushed from the trek so far. “Come on, Lady Aideen! Take the brat and get out of here quickly. You need to put as much distance between you and Gandolf while you can.”

Aideen stumbled forward, cresting over the hill. Jamke let his hand fall to his side, staying behind to watch the two climb the rest of the way up. However, Aideen noticed, stopping to turn back to him. Her brows furrowed, the sense of urgency lost momentarily. “Prince Jamke, are you not joining us?”

Jamke stared up into the bright blue eyes, rivaled by the skies above them. The urge to tear his gaze away tugged at him, but he resisted, maintaining eye contact. “No. While I cannot tolerate my brothers’ ways, I can’t betray my father either… I’m going back to the capital. I’m going to try, one more time, to convince my father.”

Aideen gave a small nod, stepping back down to stand closer to Jamke. A small smile grew on her face, a smile that Jamke wanted to bask in and never leave but fate had a different path for him.

“You’re right… We must do what we can to end this war as soon as possible. I don’t wish to burden you, but I believe you’re our only hope to persuade King Batur to end this war.” Aideen extended her hand, reaching out for Jamke’s. His fingers wandered up, taking her hand in his. He looked at their joined hands, wondering if their paths would have ever crossed if things had not gone so horribly wrong.

Perhaps that was the only joy he could take from this. Meeting and knowing Aideen had been the saving grace in the cruel weave of fate. And he knew his life was better for knowing her, even if nothing could ever come of it.

“Aideen! We gotta go! We’re still in serious danger and Gandolf’ll rip out my tongue if he catches us!” Dew whined, racing down to tug on her cloak.

Aideen’s hand jerked away, turning to face her travelling companion. Jamke sighed, hand falling to his side. “Dew, you’re a thief who got caught. Who’s fault is it if your tongue gets ripped out? I only let you out because Lady Aideen insisted.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Jamke hadn’t wanted Aideen to travel by herself through the wilderness back home. When she suggested taking Dew along with them, it seemed like a better option. It wasn’t ideal, but time wasn’t on their side and Jamke had to get Aideen out Marpha as quick as possible.

So he charged Dew with guarding Aideen. It wasn’t much, but if Sigurd’s forces were moving as quickly as the rumors that flew about, then they would be safe.

“Dew – remember our deal?” Jamke gripped the teen by the shoulder, firm enough to pin him to his spot.

Dew looked over Jamke’s shoulder back over to the city. He nodded vigorously. “Yep. Keep Aideen safe. And leave my thieving days behind me! I’m taking the straight and narrow from now on!”

Jamke didn’t know if Dew was being sarcastic or lying through his teeth. He didn’t have time to question it though. “I’ll take your word, then. Go on, both of you. Before the guards notice.”

Jamke waited, watching the two of them cross over the hillside and disappear beyond the treeline. He took a few steps back, heading back down the road towards Marpha. He wouldn’t stop back at his brother’s castle though. He would continue on to the capital and speak to his father. He prayed that his father would at least hear him out. He hoped he wasn’t too late, racing back down the well-worn path.

Jamke halted in his steps, though, pausing to look back at the forests where Aideen and Dew had disappeared into. The warm breeze pushed past him, blowing east. He couldn’t see them any more but that didn’t keep him from searching.

“Lady Aideen… May we meet again.”

And with that, Jamke trekked westward, forging ahead to find peace for his homeland.


End file.
